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Chapter 30
Polite society isn’t all it’s made out to be. In other words, polite society can suck it. ~ Phoebe’s rules for becoming a better person
“You fuckers,” Pops says before dumping a pile of magazines on the table. When the pile hits the table with a thump, I jump.
Ryker snarls. “You scared Phoebe.”
Pops wrinkles his brow as he studies me. “You still having nightmares? I thought with the big guy here in your bed, those nightmares would be gone by now.”
I cringe. Everyone knows Ryker is sleeping beside me in bed but sleeping arrangements are not a topic of discussion in polite society. I look around the table at the group of ex-Army buddies swilling beer and eating chicken wings. What was I thinking? This is not polite society. Thank goodness.
Ryker has pretty much refused to leave my side since Theodore kidnapped me. He’s not my shadow. No, he’s a magnet attached to my hip. He refuses to go back to his own work because he ‘can’t leave my side’. It doesn’t matter that Theodore was refused bail. He’s sticking to me.
He’s also driving me bonkers. Pretty soon I’m going to be the crazy one of the group, not Suzie. Don’t get me wrong. I love how protective he is. It’s sexy as all get out. When he bosses me around in bed with his deep, growly voice, I melt. Seriously. Complete puddle of goo. But outside of the bedroom, he needs to let me get on with my life.
“Have you considered seeing a therapist?” Lenny asks and I groan. Here we go again.
“I’ve been trying to get her to see one,” Ryker says.
The words ‘do not quit’ were invented on his behalf. The guy does not give up. Great in bed. No, absolutely freaking fantastic in bed. There is literally nothing better in the world than a man who is determined to make sure you come once (sometimes twice) before he does. But his no quit mentally should stay in the bedroom where it belongs.
“I do not need to see a therapist. It’s bad enough Theodore claims I’m mentally unstable, I don’t need the group of you to say it as well.”
“Do I look crazy?” Sid asks.
Is this a trick question? “Um, no?”
“Would you think less of me if went to a therapist?”
I snort. “Like you would ever see a therapist.” Well, there is one reason he’d go to a therapist. “Unless you were trying to pick her up.”
He wrinkles his nose. “No, I don’t swing both ways. Although, there’s nothing wrong with anyone who does.” He looks in Lenny’s direction. Wait. What? Is Lenny bi? Before I get a chance to ask, despite his sexual orientation being absolutely none of my business, Sid continues. “Phoebe, darling, I saw a male therapist when I got out of the military.”
“Dude was messed up,” Lenny explains. “Lost the love of his life while he was dicking around.”
“Which wife number was that?” I tease.
“Number one. Always number one.”
Well, shit. No wonder he’s been married five times. He’s trying to replace the love of his life who is irreplaceable.
“Anyway, this is not about my marriages.” Sid glares at Lenny. “What I’m trying to say is it’s okay to seek help. No one will think less of you for it. In fact, it takes a strong person to admit they need help.”
I slump against Ryker. “Fine. I’ll see a therapist.” I look up at him. “Are you happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” he murmurs before he leans down, and his lips meet mine.
“No making out at the table!” Barney shouts.
I pull away. “Mr. Dirty Joke can’t handle a bit of tongue?” My eyes widen when I realize what I said. I slam my hand over my mouth as my cheeks heat.
Ryker chuckles as he pulls me close. He winks before opening his mouth, but Barney shouts before he gets a chance to speak.
“Stop!” He holds up his hand. “Don’t you dare say you like a bit of tongue.”
Wally clamps a hand over Barney’s shoulder. “You’ll have to excuse him. Someone hasn’t gotten any for a while. He’s starting to get grumpy.”
Hailey rushes to the table and grabs my hand. “You have got to see this.” She yanks me out of the booth and pulls me to a table near the bar.
